Wet and Ready (2 page)

“The job description didn’t mention anything about swimming.  It’s a beautiful day out here today, Mr. Diamond.  You should enjoy it.  Alone.  Now if there’s nothing else . . . “

“No one walks away from me!” he barked.  DeMarco was beyond flabbergasted by her impertinence.  “How dare you even think about it, much less try it.”

Reese said nothing.  She clasped her fingers together behind her back and met his gaze.  How quickly her eyes shifted from pliant to unmalleable.  Those cool eyes reminded DeMarco of how he used to challenge his emotionally abusive father in the same way when he was a child.  It was a happy moment the day he threw dirt on that bastard’s grave.  But now, having this woman with the suppressed fury of a caged lion look at him with the same disdain that he had his father was disconcerting.

“I’d like to show you how,” he said softly.  “If you’d like that.”

“It isn’t necessary.”

“It isn’t necessary for the job,” DeMarco conceded.  “But a woman should always know how to take care of herself.  Wouldn’t you agree?”

Reese flinched.  Perhaps he’d struck a nerve.

“I understand you’ve let the rest of the staff off for the day,” Reese said.

“Yes.  I wanted to be alone.”

“Does that mean I can leave, too?”

“No.  They’ve earned the right to enjoy some occasional free time, you haven’t.  Besides, I wanted to spend some time getting to know you as I’ve been in Paris the last few days and haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Getting to know me in the pool?”

“It was an extension of good will, Reese. I seldom offer it.  You would be wise to accept my kindness during those rare times when it appears.”

Reese glanced at the glass resting on the table next to his lounge chair.

“You’ve been drinking,” Reese said.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to drink and swim.”

DeMarco chuckled.  “Heaven forbid if I swim into oncoming traffic.  Or switch lanes without signaling.  It’s iced tea.  I never drink before noon.  How about this?” DeMarco reached behind her and slowly walked her to the edge of the pool’s steps.  He removed his watch—a one-of-a-kind six-figure gift to himself—and placed it on the ledge, far enough away to be safe from splashing water.

“Ten minutes and if you feel uncomfortable in any way, we stop.  Deal?”

Reese looked at the water.  His hand caressed her lower back.  
Poor baby.
  He could feel her body tense beneath his hand.

She nodded and licked her lips.  
Had she any idea how incredibly sexy she was when she did that?

“Good.” DeMarco breathed.  “At the very least, you’ll learn a few skills to save your life even if you don’t qualify for the Olympics.”

DeMarco turned and started to walk down the steps of the pool.  Once inside, he turned and looked at her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I,” she paused.  “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

He shrugged.  “It’s okay to take off your clothes.  There’s no one here but us.”

Reese put her hands on her hips.  “Wouldn’t you just
love
that.  I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Baby, you’re
all
that kind of girl, it takes some of you a little longer to realize it, that’s all.”  She didn’t look convinced.  
Geez, the things I have to go through to be a Good Samaritan.

DeMarco asked, “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I removed my swim trunks?”

The dawn of astonishment on her face was like watching the sun slowly rise above the horizon.

Enough said.

DeMarco pulled down his Gucci swim trunks and threw them by Reese’s feet. 

“Your turn, Princess.”

He doubted she could see much of him through the water, but even if she could, it didn’t matter.  DeMarco’s flaccid shaft was bigger than the average man with a hard on.

Reese didn’t move.  For a moment, DeMarco wondered if she was going to run and call the cops—even he couldn’t deny that the best employment attorney in the world couldn’t defend him at this point—but then something happened.

Toes, polished bright yellow, slipped out of heels.  Nervous fingers slid the cheap polyester jacket from her soft shoulders.  Reese unbuttoned her white blouse.  DeMarco thought she looked like a pretty, if inept, stripper.  He could’ve swam a lap in the amount of time it took her to unbutton her blouse.  But when she revealed the bright red bra clinging to her breasts, he knew for damned sure he’d need that lap to cool himself off.  Reese, apparently growing more confident out of her clothes than when she was restrained in them, made quick waste of her skirt.  She revealed a silky red thong that matched her bra.  DeMarco had ideas of dressing her in something more upscale, but then again, he’d never see her like this again so what did it matter to him what her underwear looked like?  And he had to admit, the woman made cheap look good.

Her body was exactly as he liked his women to be: slender but fleshy.  DeMarco hated the emaciated frames of the women strutting around New York like they’d stepped from the pages of a high-fashion magazine.  Bony, gaunt, starved.  He liked his women to have meat that he could knead and suck and dive into like a soft, warm pillow.

“Good,” DeMarco said, attempting to stay composed.  He took a step back then extended his hands to her.  “Come on in.  The water’s warm.”

Reese hesitated for the briefest moment.  Then she dipped her toe in the water.

“You’re right,” she said, a quick smile flicked across her lips then disappeared.  “It is warm.  You promise you won’t let me drown?”

DeMarco Diamond’s heart jolted in his chest.  Her eyes looked as heartbreakingly sincere as a three-week old puppy’s.

Didn’t she know he was a killer?

Didn’t she know he was one of the most feared men in America?

“No, baby,” he said.  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The words surprised him even as they fell from his lips.  Not because he’d said them.  But because he believed they were true.

#

This man was the last thing Reese needed in her life.  She had seen pictures of DeMarco Diamond on television although she never paid him much attention.  Now she couldn’t take her eyes away from him.  Each ripple of his chest begged her to reach out and touch him.  How she would love to run her tongue over that smooth olive skin, around his hardened nipples, and bite until he moaned with pleasure.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said again. 

Her stomach muscles quivered.

That sounded like something a man who wanted to have his way with her would say.  Sweet nothings that amounted to simply that:
nothing.

Yet, her legs shakily carried her toward him.  She wanted to believe his words.  Wanted to fall into his arms and be loved by him like no man had ever loved her before.  However, if the men she’d had in her past were any indication, DeMarco Diamond would be as ineffectual a lover as all those before him, regardless of how utterly mouthwatering he may have looked.

“Now what?” she asked when she was waist deep in the water.

“Now you float,” he said.  “So that you can understand the magic of buoyancy.”

Gently, he put his hand behind her head and helped her lean back into the water.  “Relax,” he whispered over and over again like a mantra.  “Relax.”

Reese let her body become as moldable as clay.  She kept her feet together and arched.  He touched her small toe with a single finger and she felt her body drift.  He touched the other toe and her body slowly changed direction. She closed her eyes against the blue sky and absorbed the warmth that enveloped her.  Was this real?  Was she really here?  It seemed like only yesterday that she was homeless, living on the streets and scheming to get ahead.  And now this.

 Reese opened her eyes when she felt his touch.  DeMarco’s hand gently cradled her lower back and her body became as fluid as the water on which she drifted. The summer sun softened the black eyes that had seared into her with displeasure only moments ago.  Beads of water twinkled in the light smattering of chest hair which lay slick down his chiseled torso.  An electrical current bounced between them and, instead of frazzling her nerves, his nearness calmed her.  Reese closed her eyes again.

“Slowly lift your arms behind you like an arrow,” he commanded. 

She did as she was told without much grace. Her body awkwardly drifted, overcompensated and water splashed on her face.  She heard his deep intake of air.  He was probably laughing inside at her awkwardness.  But he said nothing.  DeMarco came behind her and helped to outstretch her arms above her head, then placing one hand firmly in the pocket of the other.  With but a finger, he touched her cupped hands and her body drifted like a pendulum in whatever direction he chose, just as he’d done her with her toes.

Reese smiled.  “This feels good.”

“It gets better,” he said.  “How about kicking those pretty little toes for me?  See how fast you can get to the other end of the pool.”

“How deep is the other end?”

“Deep enough.  Now kick.  Nothing’s going to happen to you, Reese.  I’m right here with you.”

Reese pointed her toes and kicked, splattering him with huge plumes of water.  She smiled but kept her body straight as a rod.

“Wall,” DeMarco said.

Suddenly, she had a vision of crashing her head into the wall and her blood spilling into the pool.  Her body tensed.  Reese took a deep breath and felt her legs dip deeper into the water, then her core followed.

Before her head could go under, she felt a single strong arm wrap around her waist and upright her.

Reese’s heart thumped inside her chest.  She clutched the edge of the pool while her toes searched for purchase on the bottom.  At five-four, Reese knew if she couldn’t touch the bottom of the pool it was because she was in six feet of water, if not deeper.  She rested her head on her arm, which clung to the concrete like a life preserver.

“I could have drowned,” she said.

“Not on my watch, you couldn’t have,” DeMarco said.  “It’s natural to be afraid of water in the beginning.  It won’t be long before you’re able to relax and learn to enjoy how fun the water can be.”

Reese shook her head.  She wasn’t buying it.  “That wasn’t my idea of fun.”  She shook the tip of her nose, water dripped out.  “I must look like a fool.”

“Don’t clutch the pool,” DeMarco said, his voice low and deep. 

“The water’s too deep, I have to.”

Reese looked at him.  His eyes moved over her face as though he were appraising the Mona Lisa in the Louvre.

“No,” he whispered and moved closer to her.  Gently he took both her hands and wrapped them around his bare waist.  He brought his lips down to hers and the instant before he kissed her he said, “Hold on to me.”

#

DeMarco was a man who knew self-control.  He’d slept with his fair share of women over the years and none of them had affected him in quite this way.  He’d made sure of it.  This felt different—beyond his control.  The unmasked vulnerability in Reese’s eyes touched a part of him that he’d believed was long dead.  Those quivering pink lips of hers would surely be his downfall.

Nevertheless, he wrapped her hands around his waist and kissed her.  Her reticent tongue surprised him.  DeMarco was accustomed to aggressive women who could hardly wait to get inside his bed and his pockets.  But this woman was something else.  As his tongue danced with hers, he tasted a hint of raspberry—jam? candy?—and he sucked her bottom lip like a man trying to squeeze the last bit of nectar from fruit.  Aware of his nudity, he kept his lower body at a safe distance from Reese’s, careful not to scare her away by the sudden jolt of his cock pressing against her.  No, DeMarco definitely wanted to have his way with her, and he didn’t want to be turned away by a sudden allegiance to modesty.

DeMarco unhooked her tightly bound hands from around his waist and ever so slowly turned Reese in the water so that the front of her pressed against the pool wall.  In what he took as a show of submission, she folded her arms on the ledge and rested her head, waiting for whatever came next. 

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear, then ran his tongue over her shoulder.  At his height, DeMarco was able to stand in the pool with no effort.  How adorable it was to see her legs dangling beneath the sparkling water.  He placed kiss after kiss down her back until his head was almost beneath the water.  DeMarco sucked in his breath and let his tongue continue to flick across her skin as he slowly plunged beneath the surface to come face-to-face with her behind.  He took a second to admire her ass—perfectly rounded cakes that made his mouth water.  DeMarco kneaded them in his hands then sucked on one, then the other, until he became lightheaded due to lack of oxygen and his rising temperature.

Using little strength, DeMarco ripped the thin material of her thong and let it float away while his tongue traveled down the exquisite center of her ass.  Damn it!  He needed air.  DeMarco pulled himself up to the surface, splashing water on her back as he did so.  He didn’t need to slip his fingers between her thighs to discern her arousal.  The faraway look on her face—even with her eyes closed—told him all he needed to know. 

His hand caressed her left ass cheek as he leaned forward and asked, “Do you want me?”

“Yes, yes,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. 

Baby if you think you feel good now, just you wait . . .

DeMarco slid each bra strap off her shoulder, trailing kisses along the way.  With experienced fingers, he unhooked her bra and let the water carry it away.  Now they were both naked.  Hot skin pressing against hot skin. 

Reese bent her head back and pressed it against DeMarco’s shoulder.  He took advantage of her parted lips and tasted her again, with more hunger than before.  She wrapped her left arm around his head, running her nails through his hair, clawing at his scalp and DeMarco didn’t even try to stifle the moan that emerged from the depths of his belly.  Since when could a woman have this kind of all-consuming effect on him?

DeMarco slid his hands down her soft belly. Exactly, maddeningly the way he liked it.  If he wanted to feel all muscles and bones, he might as well have fucked a man.  No thanks.  Not his style.  He liked the feel of flesh, tissue . . . meat.  Instinctively, Reese must have known where he wanted to go with his hands because she wrapped each of her legs around each of his.  He took a step away from the ledge.